Monday, July 23, 2012

[Contents: Me]

So very big.  Me. 
All the miniscule epiphanies that make up 

I'm full, no
filled. Filled up
and overflowing.
Are you sure I can stretch this far?

Words. Music. Colors. Nature.
They pull me up
Upward.  Heavenward.

The stretching starts to hurt
I can't do this!
You're giving me too many words.

I'll break

I'm filled and filled and filled
Until I can fill the pages.
Pages and pages
all full of myself.
Not of myself,
of what filled

Endless circles of filling and full.
Life, death, and new life again
until I finally break
and the words soak out
onto the pavement and
into the dirt.

They stay on the pages
waiting for another empty container to fill.

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